Justine Picardie visits the Bronte parsonage in the company of two psychics:

Before we go inside, Coral has already noticed something that interests her in the garden: two pine trees, one rather stunted, the other flourishing, on either side of what was once a gate that led from the parsonage to the churchyard. “Who planted those?” she says. “It’s as if one signifies hope, and what might have been, and the other is of everything that was thwarted.”
“Well, there’s a story attached to them, possibly apocryphal,” says Andrew. “They were supposed to have been planted by Charlotte and her husband, Arthur Bell Nicholls, just after they returned from their honeymoon.” (They were married in 1854 on what Charlotte described as “that dim June morning”; her wedding veil and bonnet are still lovingly preserved in a glass case in the museum, touching relics of a short-lived marriage, for she died in March 1855, apparently in pregnancy, and her coffin was carried up the same church aisle that she had walked as a bride only nine months before.)